Tin Soldiers
by Sylvia Viridian
Summary: The Renegades: an eclectic group of misfits who would never have made it with the Desians. These are their stories, in a series of one shots with no particular order, written for a LiveJournal challenge community. Now with shounen ai.
1. Family

**Title:** Family  
**Prompt #:** 55 - Family  
**Character(s): **OCs, Botta  
**Rating/Warnings:** PG for themes  
**Word Count: **460 according to MSWord  
**Author's Notes:** For the LJ challenge community tos (underline) 100. (The underline symbol doesn't show up if I type it in.) Oh, and if you're familiar with a certain anime/manga series, you might recognize the family situation I borrowed for Joe and Gene, whose names are adapted from the family members they're based on. If not, I'll tell you below.

* * *

"Do you have a family, Private?" 

The question caught him off guard, triggered a flood of childhood memories.

"It's your fault. It's always your fault! I hate you!" his half-brother screamed at him, "All because of you, no one likes any of us! I wish you would just die!" _I could only watch in tears as Gene stomped off, for I knew it was true._

It was later, sometime the next day. "Look, I'm sorry, Joe, I didn't mean that. It's just…it's hard sometimes, on all of us. But you're still my little brother, and I'll keep protecting you, okay? Even though no one else wants you around, you're the only brother I have, so I'd better do a good job, right? I'm sorry." _Don't be, Gene. You were right the first time, I would have been better off dead than living there, with that so-called family._

His stepmother looked down at him with pain-filled eyes, forever reminded of her husband's mistress by his presence. "Go run and play with your brother or something, Joe, I'm busy." _She was always too busy, for me, but somehow managed to make time to play with Gene._

His father's voice rang out, across the dinner table, "Matilda, don't you think it's about time we put that runt to work somewhere? We could ship him off to be a caravan guard, or maybe put him in the Palmacosta militia, they could always use more cannon fodder." _They wrote letters, but no one ever wanted me. No one trusted a half-elf not to turn on them._

As he was climbing out his window, his belongings and supplies firmly on his back, Gene walked into his bedroom. They stared at each other for a long moment; then, Gene simply said, "Thanks, bro. Take care of yourself, okay?" _We both knew it was a laugh. A child my age couldn't survive in the wilds, and a half-elf my size would never make it on the streets. But anything was better than staying there, and I was too angry at the world to be cautious. Gene was the only one who didn't hate me, and even he didn't care enough to keep me safe, in the end._

He'd been lucky the Renegades found him before the Desians did, or else he'd still be a slave to hatred. But the people who took him in and cared for him, who taught him to defend himself, they said humans weren't evil by nature, and he wanted to impress them, so he tried to believe it. He learned not to hate, learned to be respectful to the humans in their ranks. The Renegades were the only ones who ever tried to teach him anything important, the only ones who had ever seen him as being worthwhile.

He shook himself out of his reverie. "No, Lord Botta," he said, "The Renegades are my only family."

* * *

Now, then, Saiyuki fans should go and read it again, with the names "Gojyo" and "Jien" in mind. ((grins)) My first fic for a challenge community, please leave a review! 


	2. Prank Day

This chapter is theme #62: laughter. I still do not own Tales of Symphonia; I think I forgot to say so last chapter, so I disclaim that one as well.

* * *

After a year of waiting, the day had finally arrived. It was the day when Renegades who had been raised to a particular rank within the last year would be initiated into one of the finest traditions of the organization which they served. 

Naturally, they were all completely unaware of the fact.

It started with the morning shift. Lyon, one of the newest squad leaders, came in looking extremely disgruntled. When a more experienced officer asked him what was wrong (carefully keeping a straight face), he explained that his alarm clock had somehow gotten set for 3 a.m. By the time he discovered the error, he had already had his coffee, and couldn't get back to sleep. The officer nodded, and told him sagely (but with a suspicious twinkle in his eye) that he should be more careful when setting his clock.

About that time, Lyon's colleague Rebecca arrived, in a very bad mood. This was probably because someone had replaced her shampoo with blue hair dye; her normally bright red hair was a splotchy purple. A few muffled giggles were heard as she entered. She was followed a moment later by a rather frantic Charles, whose uniforms had all been cut so that they had holes in rather indiscreet places. The room burst out laughing at the patch of pink underwear showing through the seat of his pants.

Complaints kept coming in all day; people found their sugar and salt switched, their beds short-sheeted, their hairbrushes glued to countertops, and a thousand other ridiculously simple pranks. Finally, all those with complaints were told, by snickering superiors, to report to the common room in full uniform for a briefing. The room quickly filled, becoming a gallery of simple but effective pranks, and even the affected Renegades began to laugh at the variety and ingenuity of some of them.

After they had all gathered, the lights in the common room were turned down, and a slideshow was put up on the projector. The room was filled almost instantaneously with laughter at the images shown; they were pictures of various Renegade officers in their younger years, all of whom had obviously been similarly pranked. The highlight of the session so far was most definitely the picture of a young Botta, looking quite disgruntled about the fact that his face had been dyed green.

"In hindsight, it's very funny," a voice murmured from a discreet viewing area, "although I certainly didn't think so at the time. You did well this year."

"So did you," replied another voice, "I would never have thought to hide fake spiders in Ronald's room, for example. How do you come up with those things?"

Botta shrugged, "I had three sisters, growing up. Pranks were a way of life among us."

Yuan smiled at him, then glanced out at the room, where the final picture was showing. It was one of himself; he was glaring violently at the camera, mostly because of the mustache and beard which had been drawn on his face in indelible black ink. The picture had been taken in the first year of the Renegades' existence; that was the prank which had begun the tradition. At the bottom of this picture was written a message, designed to enlighten those members of the crowd who were still confused:

"Happy Prank Day!" – Yuan W. Avarathanga

* * *

Well, it's a bit late for April Fool's, but this was too good an idea to resist. Review, please! 


	3. End of an era

Still don't own Tales. This one is theme #23, Voice. I've always wanted to do something about when Yuan had to evacuate all the Renegades, so here's my chance to make him give a long and sappy speech. Enjoy!

Oh, and this one goes really amazingly well with Green Day's song Good Riddance (Time of Your Life). I wasn't thinking of it when I wrote it or anything, it just occurred to me afterward. Here's the lyrics, which I don't own:

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road  
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go  
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why  
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

It's something unpredictable, but in the end, it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life

So take these photographs and still frames in your mind  
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time  
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial  
For what it's worth, it was worth all the while

It's something unpredictable, but in the end, it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life...

It's something unpredictable, but in the end, it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life.

* * *

The bases' loudspeaker systems crackled, both at once, and a voice came over them. It was a voice that all the officers knew well (even if the one who knew it best had all-too-recently gone to a watery grave…best not to dwell on that), and one that even the newest recruit couldn't help but listen to with respect. 

"May I have your undivided attention, please," it said, "This is your leader, Lord Yuan, speaking. I have grave news for all of us."

A tense silence settled over both bases like a heavy, wet blanket. No one dared to break it with so much as a whisper, waiting with dread in the pits of their stomachs to hear what had happened now, with so much already having gone wrong.

The voice continued, "I trust that you have all been trained well enough to behave professionally and not panic, so I'll come right out and say it. All the evacuation plans we made for the worst-case scenario, the ones we kept and never thought to use…start dusting them off. Yggdrasill has discovered my treachery, and it's only a matter of time before he tracks us down here. I want all of you gone by the time that happens."

Now the whispers did start. How could this have happened? After all they'd done, all the precautions they'd taken…was there a spy among them? Had someone broken under interrogation? Had one of them – Martel forbid – grown careless? If Cruxis knew about Lord Yuan, what else could they have learned?

"I want to apologize to you all for this," Yuan's voice continued solemnly, "and to reassure you on a few points. To the best of my knowledge, our contact network has not been compromised, so you should be safe using that to hide. This incident is no one's fault but my own." Yuan sighed, actually sighed, and when he continued, his voice held the weariness of far too many years of being a ruthlessly efficient leader. "I didn't realize that…well, it doesn't matter. The point is, I was careless, and he saw me, overheard me giving orders to the soldiers I had with me…by the time I knew he was there, it was far too late. I made a mistake, one that I couldn't afford to make, and now it has cost us everything. For that, I am sorry.

"There is still a chance that the dream we share may come true. Lloyd Irving and his companions are still fighting Mithos, and I have come to believe that if a way can be found for him to wield the Eternal Sword, he and his friends may be able to overcome Yggdrasill. But your part in this is done, for now."

The whispers changed to mutters of disappointment. No one could really blame Lord Yuan, of course; clearly, circumstances must have been beyond his control, no matter what he claimed. They had faith that he had done his very best for all of them, and more importantly, for the world. Still, it would be disappointing to be left out of the end of this epic confrontation.

But Lord Yuan wasn't finished. "However, although we can do no more until Cruxis falls, I want all of you to remember this: our struggle will not end with Cruxis. There are two worlds which, if all goes well, must be integrated with one another. There are cities to be rebuilt, bonds of trust to be formed, governments to create…If Lloyd succeeds, our work will continue for many years to come. This is a setback, not the end. And if Cruxis does fall, we won't have to hide in the shadows anymore. We'll be able to come out and operate in the open, and all of you will eventually gain the respect and acclaim that you so richly deserve.

"And you do deserve it, all of you. I want to thank each one of you for following me this far, for sticking around when things got tough, and even for joining in the first place. It isn't an easy decision to make, choosing to fight without hatred. We may be separating physically for now, but I know that that spirit, the spirit of the Renegades, will endure this test, as it has every one before it. And I know that, should the world pull through this, we'll all meet again in happier times. So pack your bags, say your goodbyes, but don't give up hope. One way or another, we'll all meet again. …Yuan out."

And as they went to shut the base down, shred the sensitive papers and remove the computers' memory banks (Memory was stored in removable cylinders for just this reason, Lord Yuan was always prepared for the unexpected), there wasn't a dry eye in either base…but neither was there a heavy heart. Yuan's speech had done its job: they were leaving with the knowledge that they had done, and would continue to do, good work.

----

Once he'd finished his announcement, Yuan sat in his office with the door locked and stared at the ceiling.

"Did I do that well, old friend?" he whispered to distant ears that would never hear him again, "At least they'll die happily now, believing that they made a difference. Even though nothing we've done really matters, here in the end, with the worlds about to split permanently and drift away, or the seed about to die…either way, we'll all die of the mana deprivation. So what does all our hard work really matter, if the world's going to end in spite of everything?"

And for a moment, he could almost swear he heard Botta's voice once again, telling him not to be an idiot. _Everyone dies eventually. What's important is how a person lived. You gave us all a chance to live well, doing things that were right. That's why they follow you, why they love you…and they're right to do so._

Yuan sighed, and tried to believe in the words he knew he must have imagined. "Well, that's stupid of me," he muttered to himself after a moment, "If I imagined it, then it came from my own subconscious, which means that on some level, I already _do_ believe it." He broke into a rueful chuckle, feeling, if not hopeful, then at least somewhat lighter. Considered packing up the various items in his desk for just a moment, then remembered that he had nowhere else to go, and dropped the idea. He would wait here, come hell or high water. Whether he waited for the end of the world or the return of his Renegades, even Yuan couldn't say, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave even if he wanted to try.

Besides, even if there was nothing left for the Renegades to do as a group, surely he could do something to try and help Lloyd succeed…


	4. Travelers

Blame this on my CLAMP fangirlishness. This is a crossover fic, but a perfectly logical one if you think about it for a moment. What's easier to write crossovers for than a bunch of people who are traveling the dimensions anyway? So my entry for the theme "Feathers" is a crossover with Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle. Go ahead and laugh, I think they could cause some very nice havoc.

I don't own any of it, including the lyrics that I use as line breaks; those are from the Tsubasa anime's opening theme.

* * *

There was a knock on the door of Yuan's office. "Come in!" he called, and a subordinate entered. Yuan recognized him as Lyon, a young squad leader. He held something in his hand, and Yuan could feel a powerful magical aura coming from it. "…What have you got there, Lyon?"

Lyon approached his desk. "A- well, I'm not exactly sure, sir," he admitted. He placed the object in front of Yuan: it was a strangely curled feather, with an odd design on one side. "It…it looks like a feather, sir, but I've never felt a mana signature like that before. I was hoping you'd know what to do with it."

Yuan picked it up carefully, examining it. There was something very odd, and yet almost familiar, about the aura it emitted. "Where did you get this?" he asked curiously.

"One of my men picked it up on patrol in Flanoir, sir. It was freshly exposed, in some ice that had recently been melting, looked like it had been there for years. Colin's always been real sensitive to auras and magic; he said there'd always seemed something odd about that area, and once it was exposed, he could sense it a mile off."

"I'm sure," Yuan murmured, "Thank you for bringing this to me, Sergeant. I'll investigate its origins myself." Understanding the implied dismissal, Lyon saluted, then left his leader to ponder the mysterious feather. Once he was alone, Yuan murmured to himself, "It almost feels like…like a fragment of a soul, unfiltered by an Exsphere. But that's impossible…"

_Hate naki yume motomeru shirube naki mirai de…  
Out seeking our limitless dreams in this future with no guide…_

A few months later, after yet another trip through the swirling space between dimensions, a small group of travelers landed in a desert in a burst of mana and looked around them.

"My goodness, it's hot here!" said a tall, willowy magician. His short blonde hair was slightly tousled, while his clear blue eyes reflected sadness even though his face was always smiling. He wore blue and white robes, all covered with a matching fur-lined cloak, the hood of which was pulled up onto his head; he quickly brushed it down, so as not to overheat as much. "Although, I suppose you're used to this type of climate, aren't you, Sakura-chan?"

A girl in a pretty white dress with pink trim nodded. She was young, with brown hair so light it was nearly blonde, and green eyes that sparkled with life. "Yes, this is just like where I grew up…I wonder if I've come home?"

A boy with messy brown hair and hazel eyes approached her protectively. He wore a black shirt and grey-white pants, all covered by a flowing forest-green cloak. A pair of goggles hung loosely around his neck. "Maybe Mokona knows?" he told her.

The fourth person had short, spiky black hair and brown eyes that were currently narrowed in suspicion. He wore all black, except for two criss-crossing red belts, and he had a black cloak with a high collar which covered his mouth. He also wore a strange sort of red face mask; it covered his forehead, and came down to protect the sides of his face, without obscuring his vision at all. The mask was decorated with a black crescent moon. He addressed a small creature, "Oi, manjuu. Are we in Sakura's world or not? And is there anything weird around here?"

A small, rounded white creature bounced around them energetically. It had stubby arms, feet without legs, and long rabbit ears. Its eyes seemed to be perpetually squinting, but were no less expressive for that, and it had a strange red jewel embedded in its forehead. It spoke in a cheerful, high-pitched voice, "It's not Sakura's world, I don't think, but there's something really weird about it. There's a feather off that way-" it pointed in a direction, "but there's almost no magic in the air at all, and it feels like there should be, too."

The tall magician grew serious, "Mokona…you're right. This world…is nearly without mana."

The man in black shrugged, "So what's the big deal? That just means no spells for us to fight against, right?"

"Wrong, Kuro-wanwan," the magician responded with false cheerfulness, then grew serious again, "Life can't exist without a certain amount of mana around. Crops won't grow right, people and animals will become sickly and weak…with such low mana levels, it's clear that…this world is dying."

Sakura looked troubled. "I hope…it's not because of something my feather did," she said softly.

The boy shook his head firmly, "Even if it was, Princess, it's not your fault that it happened."

The magician smiled at her, "Syaoran's right. But I don't think that's the case, at any rate…some worlds are simply old and worn out. Even worlds have lifespans; it could be that we've simply reached one which is near the end of its life."

Sakura managed a smile, "I hope that's all it is, Fai-san." She turned to Syaoran, "And I thought I told you not to call me 'Princess' anymore, Syaoran. My name is Sakura, and we're friends, so you should use it!"

Syaoran smiled sheepishly at her, "Sorry…Sakura." He turned to the man in black, "We shouldn't stay here too long; we should try to find some shelter before we roast in the sun. Will you lead the way, Kurogane-san?"

Kurogane shrugged, "Sure, I guess. Let's head toward the feather, it's as good a direction as any other in this place. So I suppose the manjuu bun should lead us, instead."

The white creature squealed in joy, "Mokona will lead! Hooray! Follow Mokona!" It bounced off in the direction it had indicated before, and the others followed it through the burning desert sands.

_Boku ga hikari nakushite mo itsuka…  
I know that even if I lose the light someday…_

The intercom on Yuan's desk beeped, then said, "Lord Yuan."

Yuan looked up from his work, "Botta? What is it?"

"Sir, we recently took some travelers prisoner under unusual circumstances, and they seem a bit…strange."

"Define 'strange'. And while you're at it, define 'unusual circumstances'."

"They came up and knocked on the door to the base, sir. There are children with them, and a…talking creature of some sort. And sir…they asked the name of where they were, and when I spoke with them for a while, I discovered that they had never heard of either Sylvarant or Tethe'alla." Botta sounded as confused as Yuan felt.

"…You're in the prison area?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be right there."

"Thank you, sir." There was no mistaking the relief in Botta's voice.

_Kimi ga tomoshitekureta kirameku mune no honou…  
You'll light up the flame within your sparkling heart…_

A short while later, they were all in Yuan's office, Yuan having decided that whatever they were, they wouldn't be dangerous to him.

"So let me get this straight. You claim to be simple travelers…"

"We are."

"And yet you don't know the first thing about Sylvarant or Tethe'alla."

"We're from a long way away; we've never visited either of those countries before."

Yuan stared in disbelief at the cheerful mage who said his name was Fai. "Sylvarant is the name of this world," he informed the man icily.

Fai blinked in shock, as his ninja friend smirked, seeming to find the man's faux pas amusing. "…oh," said the pale wizard, who had suddenly grown somewhat paler. Then he looked confused. "But your friend…he seemed to be talking about a place called Tethe'alla as if it were separate from Sylvarant…"

"It is. There are two worlds here, and it seems that you don't come from either." Yuan remembered something, and his eyes widened, "Wait a minute…could it be…?" He looked at them with a new light dawning in his eyes, examining the group, "I've heard theories of multidimensional travel before, but I've never seen evidence of the implementation except with our worlds, which are so close together…it would require immense power, though…" His eyes rested on the little white creature, whose magical aura was almost as strong as that bizarre feather that a patrol had brought in a few months ago, the one that he'd asked both Kratos and the Elven Storyteller about, with no success in learning its origin. "That creature. Is that your transportation, then? Or do you cast the spells yourself?"

Fai blinked at him again, "You're very observant. Mokona is our transportation, yes."

"I've had a lot of time to practice observing things. So, why are you traveling through the dimensions?" He eyed the eclectic group, "Somehow, I can't see all of you traveling together unless you had some sort of mission."

The ninja, Kurowani or something like that, snorted, "You can say that again."

Fai draped himself over his friend's shoulders while the other man struggled, "Aw, you know you love me, Kuro-pippi!"

"Don't call me funny names! My name is Kurogane!" the ninja roared, his cheeks red.

Yuan smirked at them, "Get a room or something." Gratified to see Kurogane's entire face turn a violent red, and Fai's a delicate shade of pink, he turned to the others, "Well? Will you answer my question, if your companions won't?"

The boy, Syaoran, nodded, "Princess Sakura has lost her memories; fragments of her soul have been scattered throughout space and time, and we are on a quest to collect them for her."

Yuan nodded in resignation, "Let me guess; they look like feathers."

Syaoran's eyes widened, "How do you…?"

"Why else? We found one. We've been working on trying to harness its power for our cause, but if she needs it back…" He pressed a button on the intercom, "Jordan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Bring in that feather that we found a few months back."

"Yes, sir!" The intercom fell silent.

"Wait," Sakura broke in, "What…what are you trying to use it for?"

Yuan turned to her, "My soldiers and I are attempting to repair the world. I don't know if you've noticed how low the mana levels are here?"

Fai nodded, and Sakura said, "Yes…Fai said it meant the world was dying. Is this world old and worn out? Or…"

Yuan shook his head, "Not yet. Or, it shouldn't be. I mentioned that there are two worlds here. Once, they were one world. Mana was supplied to them by a huge tree, called the Great Kharlan Tree. But excessive use of magitechnology consumed the mana faster than the Great Tree could produce it, and it withered away, leaving only its seed. A great wizard was forced to split the world into two halves, placing the two halves on phase-shifted dimensions, and binding the seed between them to provide them with mana. But the Great Seed only produces enough mana for one world, and so the worlds are constantly exchanging roles, like an hourglass. Right now, this world is nearly empty, while the other one is full of mana; in a few years, there will be a ritual to reverse their positions.

"If the Great Seed were allowed to sprout, the worlds could be healed, and people wouldn't have to suffer as they do now. But the wizard who split the world won't allow it, because his sister's soul is bound to the seed, and if it grows, it will absorb her. However, I know that the sister would never want the worlds to suffer so that she can remain in such a state, half-alive and in constant pain…and so, for both her sake and that of the worlds, the Renegades and I are trying to find a way to make the Great Seed sprout."

The others looked shocked. While they were doing that, a soldier entered the office. "Here's that feather, sir," he said, handing Sakura's feather to Yuan.

"Mekyo!" the creature Mokona cried out, opening its eyes wide to reveal bizarre cat-like pupils, "That's really one of Sakura's feathers, all right!"

"So it detects them too?" Yuan observed, "How interesting." He turned back to the soldier, "Thank you, Jordan. Dismissed." The man saluted and left. Yuan turned to Sakura and offered the feather to her, "Here you are, child."

Sakura stared at it; she seemed to be coming to a decision. Finally, she said, "You can…keep it, if it will help you. …You need it more than I do."

Yuan was floored. "You…you can't mean that," he said finally, "It might take centuries for our task to be completed, even with your feather. Are you willing to risk never getting back that part of your soul? Losing those memories permanently?"

Sakura's expression was determined, "If it means the happiness of so many people…then I am."

Yuan stared at her, then smiled sadly, even a bit nostalgically. "You're…just like her, aren't you…" he murmured, "So utterly pure…" He shook his head, "It's true that your feather might help us reach our goal faster…but I can't accept it, even freely offered as it is." He stared at the gem embedded in the back of his hand, "Our enemy…he forces a transformation upon certain young people, ripping away their pure souls to create vessels for his sister, a new body that she can inhabit. These people never deserved to lose their souls, and what he does makes him a monster; the fact that these Chosen Ones go willingly to their doom, even knowing their fate, makes his crimes greater and not less. They, too, are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the world…but that doesn't make it right to accept such a sacrifice." He met Sakura's eyes, "If I were to take this feather from you…I would be no better." He proffered the feather again, "Take it, child. It's yours."

Sakura nodded, "I understand. Thank you, Mister Yuan. I…hope you manage to save your world."

Yuan smiled sadly, "So do I."

Then Sakura reached out and took the feather from him. It dissolved into sparkles and vanished into her small form, and she wavered for a moment before collapsing into Syaoran's waiting arms.

Yuan was mildly alarmed. "Will she…be hurt by this?" he asked, a little concerned by the similarity to the Chosen's angelic transformation process.

"Only if the memories she's regaining are painful," Fai assured him.

Yuan nodded, "I see…good, then." He turned to Syaoran, "Take care of her, kid…Don't you ever lose her." His gaze was stern, but underneath was a gaping loss, and Fai nodded in sudden understanding.

"The wizard you spoke of…you knew him, didn't you? And his sister…you were close?" Fai asked.

Yuan nodded slowly, "Yes. Yes, Martel…was my fiancée." He looked at Sakura's sleeping face, "Sakura is…very similar in personality."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, which Kurogane broke. "Well, we've got the feather, so we should get going," he said bluntly.

Yuan blinked, then snapped back into his businesslike demeanor, "Yes, I'd like it if you could do one small favor for me."

Fai seemed apprehensive as he asked, "What would you like us to do?"

Yuan smirked a little, "Leave from right here, if you can. I want to study your method of transportation, perhaps we can find a way to duplicate the process with magitechnology."

Fai smiled at him, "That we can certainly do. Everyone ready?" They all gathered close together, "Okay, Mokona, let's go!"

"Mokona Modoki can't wait!" cried the puffball as it opened its mouth impossibly wide and grew wings. Shining streams of rainbow magic swirled around the group, creating a vortex of wind in Yuan's office which scattered papers and tugged at his cloak.

Yuan watched, fascinated, as they all disappeared inside the creature's mouth; Mokona itself then disappeared with a small 'pop!' noise, and Yuan was alone in his office, with nothing but disarrayed papers to prove that he hadn't just had a very strange dream.

_Tsubasa ni kawaru kibou no kakera.  
And we'll trade these fragments of our dreams for wings.

* * *

_

Please review! Next one will be better, I promise, I just had to get that plotbunny out of my system. Besides, not everything can be a masterpiece..._  
_


	5. Boat

Dedicated to my cousin Adrianna, who will be two years old in three months. While we were at my uncle's beach house, whenever someone said something to her about the water, she would always reply, "Boat!" Adi, this one's for you.

I don't own Tales of Symphonia, as evidenced by the fact that Botta is dead and no one knows what happened to Yuan at the end of the game.

* * *

It was an ordinary day at the Tethe'alla Base. Botta was walking down a hallway, when he noticed something unusual: Sergeant Charles Banfree had his door closed. Usually, Banfree liked to keep tabs on everything that was happening outside, for fear that he would miss something important; needless to say, Botta was curious as to what could override that. He knocked twice on the door as a warning, before letting himself in.

"Everything all right in here, Sergeant?" he asked the young blond officer, noting that the man seemed a bit paler than usual.

"Just fine, Lord Botta!" Banfree said a bit too perkily. His eyes betrayed his nervousness, as he kept glancing underneath his desk.

Botta raised one eyebrow, and looked around the office. Nothing seemed particularly unusual…except…

He moved to the back corner of the office and picked up the slightly-ragged pink blanket that was lying there. "I suppose this is yours, then?" he replied neutrally.

"I, uh, er," Banfree stammered, his cheeks turning pink, but before he could explain, he was interrupted by a voice from underneath his desk.

"B'ankie!" said the small voice, and a little girl in a pink dress came out and stood before Botta, her arms reaching up toward the blanket. "B'ankie!" she told him insistently.

Botta blinked at her, and handed her the blanket before she decided to throw a tantrum over it. "And who is this?" he asked the flustered sergeant.

The younger officer had a defeated look about him. "My niece, Michelle. My sister's making me take care of her, just for today. I told her I couldn't, but she's…insistent."

Botta nodded, his expression giving away none of the amusement he felt. He'd been concerned at first that Banfree was doing something that might harm the Renegades, but a small child wouldn't be any more than an inconvenience, especially if she were kept in the office. Botta crouched down to be at eye level with the child. "Hello, Michelle. How have you been doing today?"

Michelle, nervous now, scampered over to her uncle, who pulled her up into his lap. "It's all right, Michelle," Banfree told her soothingly, "This is Lord Botta. Can you say 'hi' to him?"

The girl looked at her uncle, "Boat?"

Banfree flushed, glancing at his superior officer to see if he had taken offense, "No, Michelle. Lord Botta."

"Boat!" the girl cried gleefully.

"No, Lord Botta. Can you say 'Lord Botta' for me?"

Michelle seemed to consider this for a moment, then smiled cheerfully and said, "Low' Boat!"

The sergeant groaned and held his head in one hand, with the other still supporting Michelle. "I'm sorry, Lord Botta," he said apologetically, "She went on a boat ride for the first time the other day."

Botta nodded solemnly, "I understand." He strode toward the door, "Carry on, Sergeant. I'll see if I can have some milk and cookies brought in later."

Banfree blinked, his eyes widening, "Thank you, Lord Botta!"

As Botta left, he was followed into the hallway by Michelle's voice saying "Bye-bye, Low' Boat!"

He kept chuckling all the way to the cafeteria.


	6. Distrust

Not entirely sure where this came from, but it's theme #18, distrust. I still don't own any of them; but I've discovered that the more I write for Botta, the more I love him.

* * *

"Lord Botta, sir, I can't work with him!" Private Rogers protested one day, "Please, can't you get me transferred to someone else's command?" 

Botta was surprised. "Has Sergeant Grey been treating you unfairly?" he asked the young recruit.

"Well, no," Rogers admitted, "At least, not yet. But – but he's…"

Botta's expression changed, hardening subtly. "I see. Follow me, Private." He led the young man to Yuan's office, and knocked on the door. "Lord Yuan? May I speak with you?"

"Come in, Botta," a voice called from inside, and Botta entered, with Private Rogers following nervously. He'd heard the rumors about their leader; they said he was some sort of unnatural creature. He wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

As they entered the rather lavishly decorated office, however, Rogers was surprised to see what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary half-elf sitting behind the desk. His confidence grew; surely no kinsman could refuse his complaint.

"Lord Yuan, Private Rogers here has a complaint to make about his sergeant," Botta informed the leader.

"Does he, now. And who is your sergeant, Private Rogers?" Lord Yuan asked neutrally.

"Sergeant Grey, sir," Rogers informed him in a clipped tone.

Yuan glanced at Botta briefly, then nodded. "I see. Botta, thank you for bringing him to me. You're dismissed." Botta saluted briefly, then left Rogers at the mercy of their leader, who turned his intense emerald gaze on the recruit.

"I assume it's the usual complaint?" he asked, using the same tone as before.

"Sir?" Rogers wasn't certain what he'd expected, but he was fairly sure this wasn't it.

"It happens every year; some raw recruit comes in complaining that his – or her – superior officer is a human." Lord Yuan seemed almost bored with the whole exchange.

Rogers nodded vigorously, "Yes, exactly, sir! You understand! I can't possibly-"

"Shut up, Private," Yuan snapped harshly, and Rogers did so, surprised. "Now you listen to me," the Renegade leader continued coldly, eyes flashing, "Sergeant Grey is a far better man than you are, I can tell already. Do you know why?" Rogers shook his head mutely, afraid to speak. "Because although he was rescued from a human ranch, he has never shown the slightest bitterness toward the half-elves in our ranks."

Rogers' mouth dropped open. "But sir," he protested weakly.

"Do you remember what the ultimate objective of the Renegades is, Private?" Yuan asked suddenly.

"To stop the Desians, sir. Because what they're doing gives half-elves a bad name. I understand that, sir, that harming humans is wrong, but do we have to live side-by-side with the people who burn down our villages?"

"Sergeant Grey doesn't seem to have a problem with that," Yuan pointed out, "But at any rate, you're wrong. Stopping the Desians is only part of our objective." The leader locked his gaze with that of the frightened recruit, "The goal of the Renegades is to bring about the existence of a world where everyone can live without fear of discrimination. Not just half-elves, not just humans, but everyone. And yes, before you ask, that does include elves, quarter-elves, and everything in-between. Dwarves, too," he added almost as an afterthought, "although they usually prefer to live away from the rest of us anyway."

Rogers was speechless. "But…they haven't suffered like we have. You're a half-elf, you must understand…" His tone was pleading.

Yuan raised one eyebrow. "I think you'll find, Private, that individuals from all races suffer from discrimination. And you can't even claim that half-elves have suffered the most; that title goes to quarter-elves, who are so divided from one another that most have nowhere to turn at all. Half-elves can generally depend on one another, at the very least. If you have a problem with our ideals, you're free to leave the Renegades, but I'm not transferring you to another command simply because you can't stand the thought of serving under a human."

"I…I suppose," Rogers said, defeated, "As long as he doesn't side with his own kind over others…"

Yuan gazed at him speculatively. "Private Rogers. Do you trust me?"

Rogers blinked at him, stunned by the question. "I, uh…of course, sir!"

"Why?"

"Well, you're the leader, sir. And half-elves don't betray one another; it's an unwritten rule."

Yuan smirked, "But I'm not a half-elf, Rogers. Not completely. I used to be, but I've…changed since then."

Rogers was becoming nervous again. "…Sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, come now, surely you've heard the rumors," his leader replied, apparently enjoying Rogers' discomfort.

"I have, sir…but you don't seem any different from a half-elf…"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Private. Remember that." Yuan smirked, "Dismissed. Don't forget what I told you about our goals. There is no place for unreasoning hatred or mistrust among our ranks."

"Yes, sir," Rogers replied, and made a hasty retreat.

Once Yuan was sure the younger man was gone, he raised his voice slightly. "All right, you can come out now," he called.

Botta emerged from the secret passageway behind the bookcase. "That was well-handled," he told his leader.

"We'll see. I think I gave him enough to think about; keep an eye on him and see if he changes his attitude."

"Of course."

Yuan sighed, "He's the fifty-second complainer this year; that's better than before, I suppose. I wonder if we're starting to get through to people, or if I'm just getting a reputation."

"Does it matter, sir?" Botta pointed out, "As long as they stay where they are, they all eventually learn to give up their mistrust of humans as a race. Dangerous missions do have a tendency to bring people together." He smirked a bit, "Perhaps all of the officers at that level should be humans, just so that the lesson gets through to everyone."

Yuan smirked back at him, "There's a thought. If only we could, it might make it easier to teach some of the slower ones…" He sighed, "Someday, if we succeed, we won't ever have to worry about distrust between the races again."

Botta just nodded sympathetically, "Someday."

"And until then, I'll just have to keep yelling at the idiots," Yuan finished exasperatedly, "You can go back to whatever you were doing, Botta; I won't keep you here."

Botta nodded, understanding the indication that Yuan wanted to be alone, although his friend wouldn't refuse his continued company. "I'll be sure to bring you any other fools I find, so you can yell at them," he promised as he left, with an impish smirk.

As the door closed behind him, Botta heard the distinct and familiar sound of Yuan's pencil cup hitting it, no doubt scattering writing utensils all across the floor, and chuckled as he walked away. A passing subordinate glanced at him uneasily – it was unusual for anyone emerging from that office to be mirthful – but seemed to decide that it wasn't his business and moved on. Botta smiled as he went on his way; being allowed to annoy Yuan and still keep his job was one of the perks of his friendship with the Renegade leader, and he indulged in it perhaps more frequently than he should.

The look on Yuan's face, though…

* * *

The secret passageway, while not really there in the game, was designed for the purpose shown here: to allow Yuan's most trusted subordinate to listen unseen to conversations held in the office. Anyway, please leave a review! 


	7. The Best Laid Plans

And here we have theme #81: embarrassment. This idea came from something Zelos said while they were invading the Renegade base in search of Rheiards, about not walking into a trap, and it occurred to me that the whole thing must have been a trap, perhaps right down to the Mizuho informant. That's Hiroshi Yamamoto, who I'm introducing here; he's an interesting fellow, expect to see more of him. This one also gives a bit more info on previously-seen OCs, something which I intend to do more of in the future.

If I owned Symphonia, the Renegades would have had a much more prominent role.

Stupid line breaks are still broken...

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"Ah, Chosen One," Hiroshi said, seeing Zelos, "I take it the group has arrived?"

"Yeah, yeah, right according to plan," Zelos replied with a nod, "You know, I still say you guys are making a big mistake here. They're tougher than you give them credit for."

"We've prepared for every contingency," Hiroshi responded loftily, "You just worry about your own skin; that's what you're best at, isn't it?"

Zelos smirked at him and gave a lazy salute, "Sure, fine. I'd better get back to them, before I'm missed."

Once Zelos had gone back to the group, Hiroshi pulled out his communicator and called Yuan's office. "Lord Yuan," he said, "the bait has been taken. Orochi led them right here, just as I told him; the Chosen One just reported in."

"Excellent," Yuan's voice came back, "Everything's in place; it's just a matter of time now."

"Lord Yuan, are you sure this was wise, letting them into our base like this?" Hiroshi asked, "The Chosen One seemed to think we had underestimated them…"

"Even if they're stronger than we've anticipated, we can still overwhelm them with numbers. And their strength won't matter much, at any rate. I know their type; they're idealists. They won't kill anyone if knocking them unconscious would suffice. We'll be fine," Yuan assured him, "There's nothing they can do that we haven't prepared for."

Hiroshi nodded, "All right, then, good luck, sir."

"Thank you, Hiro. Keep an eye on things; we do need to stay alert."

"Yes, sir." Hiroshi shut off his communicator.

In his office, Yuan went over his checklist one last time. The guards in every area had been warned of the coming 'invasion'; the officers with the passwords had been instructed to give them up once they had been defeated, something they would never do otherwise; the security measures were in place to make sure that they didn't harm anything valuable; and teams of healers were standing by to trail after the party and tend to the wounded left in their wake. Satisfied, he teleported into the Rheiard hangar, where Botta was already waiting.

"Is everything set?" Botta asked as he arrived, no longer unnerved by Yuan's angelic teleport.

Yuan nodded, "Nothing to do now but wait for the teams to report in."

A few minutes later, Yuan's comm device buzzed. "This is a pre-recorded message from Colonel Banfree," Charles Banfree's voice said, "If you're hearing this, Lord Yuan, I'm giving up the password to Lloyd Irving's party right now."

"Show-off," Yuan muttered. Charles was notorious for his tech-gimmicking. "The confirm message was supposed to come from the healers."

Shortly after that, the device beeped again, this time with a message from the healers, saying that there were no casualties thus far, and adding a note that, promptly upon being healed, Charles began asking whether his message-system had worked. With a roll of his eyes (and a poorly-concealed smile from Botta), Yuan assured them that it had.

A little more time passed, followed by a message from the next healer team, stating that the second password had been given up. It was interrupted by an angry tirade from Rebecca Fuego, the officer who had been in charge of that password. Apparently, she wasn't too pleased at having been knocked out. Yuan finally cut her off and disconnected the comm, making Rebecca officially the healers' problem.

"Remind me again, Botta, do I allow my officers to use that kind of language toward me?" Yuan asked conversationally.

"In Rebecca's case, there's no 'allow' involved. At least, not when she's in that kind of mood," Botta pointed out.

"True, true."

The next message came from Joe Shan, the officer in charge of the third password…or rather, from his comm device. The first noise that came from it was a rustling thump, much like a falling body. "Hey, look, this thing on this guy's belt came on when he fell!" said Lloyd's voice over the comm, "What do you suppose it does?" Yuan smacked his forehead with one hand.

"Let me see that, Lloyd," came Raine's voice, "…I think it's a communication device of some sort. We'd better turn it off, in case we give away our position; someone might be listening. Let's see, this looks like the pow-" The transmission was cut off abruptly; it seemed Raine had indeed found the power button.

"It won't be long now," Botta observed, and Yuan nodded. They prepared to battle the party; after this, Lloyd would be theirs to use as a bargaining chip, and their plans could finally come to fruition…

-----

Half an hour later, Yuan and Botta limped back to Yuan's office to go over their contingency plans. "Botta?" Yuan asked slowly, "Do you know what part of our plan was inadequate, and thusly failed to work?"

"I'm not sure," Botta replied, "I don't suppose you have any idea."

Yuan nodded, with a pained expression that had nothing to do with his wounds. "None of it. It all went off completely without a hitch, right up until the moment they entered the hangar." He shook his head, "The only thing that went wrong at all…was that we weren't supposed to lose to them."

Botta nodded slowly, "I suppose you're right…" His expression was somewhere between perplexity and vague amusement. "It's almost funny, if you think about it," he added.

Yuan glared at him, but in his injured state it looked more like a pout. "It's embarrassing, is what it is," he grumbled, "We're supposed to be the best of the best…"

"You could always blame our loss on the earthquake," Botta pointed out, "I'm sure we could have made a comeback if that hadn't distracted us."

Yuan looked at him for a moment, then smirked ruefully. "Of course," he agreed, "If it wasn't for the earthquake, we definitely would have had them."

After all, there was no shame in their plans being disrupted by an earthquake. It was much less of an embarrassment to the Renegades than the thought that their leaders had been the only weak link in their own plan.

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Please read and review! Next chapter will be more serious, I promise. Amazingly enough, I already have it planned out...


	8. Rosa

Two posts in one day, wow. I'd be more enthusiastic, but I just finished writing this, and...well, I told you last chapter that it'd be more serious. The theme is #57, Enemy.

This was inspired by many things. The first was that I finally finished working out Botta's past, at least in a basic outline. Next, he mentioned in Prank Day that he had three sisters when he was growing up, and I got to wondering what happened to them after they left home; how would three young half-elves make their way in the world? Then I thought of my first chapter here, Family, and the boy who was lucky to have been found by the Renegades first, and KitKatt0430's remark that it was too bad more people hadn't been found by them rather than the Desians...and this was the result.

I don't own Botta, Yuan, the Renegades, or anything from the game Tales of Symphonia. Anyone who wants to borrow my OCs, please ask; Botta's history is yours for the taking, if it inspires you.

This chapter is set a week or so after Botta's promotion to second-in-command of the Renegades, which is why he's not used to Yuan yet.

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Botta returned to the ranch's control room with his team, having completed their plundering of the Exsphere stockpiles. "Any trouble?" he asked the leader of the other team, which had been left behind to monitor the base.

"A little, sir, but we took care of them," the man nodded to a pile of several bodies in the corner, "Just a patrol. We'll be long gone before anyone notices they're missing."

Botta froze upon seeing the bodies. _It…it couldn't be…_ He ran over to them, lifting the corpse on top to better see the one beneath it, a young woman whose helmet had fallen off, revealing strong features and long dark hair. He knelt beside her, cradling her head in his hands. "Rosa," he whispered, "…why?"

"…Sir?" one of the soldiers asked uncertainly.

"She was my younger sister," Botta murmured distantly. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. They'd all heard of this happening, of siblings who ended up on different sides of the same fight. No one liked to think about it; it was too real a fear for most people, that a close friend or family member might end up dead for opposing them.

After a few moments, Botta rose, his expression set, although his eyes still betrayed the depth of his pain. "Let's go," he told them quietly, and both teams obeyed without a word. The silence endured all the way back to the base.

--

That night, there was a knock on the door of Botta's quarters. "Come in," he called without looking up from the files he was working on.

The person entered, and the door slid shut behind them. "Botta?" Lord Yuan's voice asked.

Now Botta did look up, to find his leader standing before him, wearing his usual neutral expression. "Sir!" he said, rising quickly, "I apologize; I didn't realize it was you…"

"Sit down, Botta. And what did I tell you the other day about the usual formalities? It's just the two of us here, you don't need to be 'sir'-ing me right and left."

"Sorry, s- er, Lor- er, Yuan," Botta replied as he sat down again. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of being friends with the unpredictable man, but what Lord Yuan wanted, Lord Yuan generally got. Speaking of which… "Was there something you wanted, -?" he asked, barely remembering in time to leave out the automatic 'sir' at the end.

"What happened on the mission today?" Lord Yuan asked him.

Botta frowned slightly, "Didn't Jordan give you my report?"

Lord Yuan nodded, "He did, yes. I was wondering what happened today that caused you to send the report via a subordinate, rather than delivering it yourself as usual. I suspect it's probably the same thing that's currently causing you to brood here and be rude to visitors." Despite his dry tone, Lord Yuan's eyes showed a hint of concern for his new second-in-command.

Botta looked away. "It's…personal," he murmured.

"I understand," Lord Yuan replied with a slight nod, "…If you want to talk about it, my door is open." He turned to leave.

Botta looked back at his leader in mild surprise. After another instant's hesitation, he spoke quietly, "A patrol interrupted the team in the control room today, and was killed."

Lord Yuan turned around from where he had been halfway to the door, and returned to stand before the desk. "Your report mentioned that, yes," he replied evenly, "That sort of thing happens occasionally, although we try to avoid it."

Botta sighed, looking down. "One of them was…was my youngest sister," he whispered, a single tear tracing its way down his face despite his best efforts. He'd hardly allowed himself to think of it before now…the child he'd practically raised, whose smile had lit up days darkened by their father's uncaring harshness…now lay dead, buried in a pile of her comrades in the enemy base. They'd lost touch once the siblings had separated, going their own ways as soon as they could all escape that house and survive on their own. He wondered what had happened to little Rosa in the time since then, appalled at the fact that he simply had no idea.

Lord Yuan was silent for a long moment. "…I'm sorry," he said finally, and Botta looked up in surprise at the genuine apology in his tone. The blunette's emerald gaze was distant, his expression troubled. He sighed, "That's always hard, to find someone you care for on the side of your enemies, and worse not to be able to prevent their death. I know that nothing I can say will make this easier for you, but for what it's worth…I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"…Thank you," Botta replied softly, uncertain what else he could say. This was a side of his leader he hadn't seen before.

"Don't," Yuan shook his head with a frown, "It's my fault you were there in the first place, after all…I could have given someone else the mission."

Botta shook his head slowly, "Either way…she would still be dead. I think…I think it would be worse not to know." He sighed, "I wish I had known where she was earlier, that we hadn't lost touch…but even if I had known, I doubt I could have convinced her to change her mind. She was always stubborn." He shook his head, "No, there's nothing that could have been done." He had to believe that, or he'd never escape the guilt.

Yuan nodded sadly. "I'll leave you alone," he said, turning to leave again. He halted a few steps from the door, turning around again briefly, "Oh, and Botta?"

"Yes?" Botta responded.

"Thank you. For being willing to talk to me." Yuan smiled ruefully, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and suddenly he changed. It wasn't anything that could really be seen, but somehow, he was a different person to Botta than the man that had entered the room. It was a strange feeling, to see his leader like this, not as a symbol or a hero, not even really as a superior anymore, but just as a person. A person who surely had doubts sometimes, about his chosen path, especially when it caused pain to those he'd taken in and protected…and a person who, in keeping himself as an authority figure to so many, made himself all the more lonesome. It was no wonder he had insisted on an informal relationship with his new second-in-command; everyone else was afraid of him.

Botta nodded at him, "You're welcome…Yuan." For once, the name didn't feel as awkward without the title preceding it.

--

The next day, Botta rose for work reluctantly, still feeling numb after the events of the day before. He stopped in front of his door, seeing a note that had been slipped underneath it. He picked the letter up and read it; printed on it was an official notice from the scheduling department:

'Your application has been approved for a week's leave. Be back at your post within seven days.'

Beneath this, in an elegant scrawl, was another message:

'I know you wouldn't ask for it yourself, but you need it. If I catch you doing any work this week, I'll use you for target practice. Yuan.'

Botta blinked at the messages, smiled faintly at the second, and began planning in his mind how he could use the week to track down his other sisters, to tell them the news and simply to check in with where they were. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice; from now on, he promised himself, he would keep in touch with his remaining family. He just hoped it wasn't too late…

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...Please leave a review.


	9. First Encounter

Wow, another update so soon! This one is theme #11, Decision, and has a twist at the end, which probably won't be as much of a twist if you're paying good attention. To avoid spoiling the surprise, I'm going to save the rest of the notes until the end of the chapter.

I don't own Tales of Symphonia or anything associated with it.

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Rhyann ran desperately through the darkened woods, hoping beyond hope that he could find some sort of shelter before the Desians caught up with him. Spying a small hut in a clearing up ahead, he thanked whatever higher power was on his side today, and dashed toward it. He reached it quickly, and began pounding on the door. "Let me in!" he cried, "Please, you've got to help me!"

The door opened a crack, and a sleepy face looked out at him. "What do you want?" the man asked blearily. He had strong features, amber eyes that were currently half-open, and dark hair that stood up from his head.

"Please, they'll tear me apart!" Rhyann pleaded frantically.

The eyes blinked at him once, and then the door opened the rest of the way. "You'd better come in, then," the woodsman replied with a yawn, ushering Rhyann into the dark hut, "What sort of creatures did you manage to annoy that much?"

"It's not animals I'm running from," Rhyann admitted, "It's Desians. Although I suppose there's not really that much difference sometimes."

In the hut's darkness, it was hard to see the woodsman's expression as he stared at Rhyann for a long moment. Then he spoke, saying in a commanding tone, "Out!"

"What?" Rhyann asked, a bit confused by this reaction.

"I said, out!" the woodsman insisted, "Do you know what they'd do to me if they found you here? I don't have anywhere to hide you if they come in here, you'd be better off if you kept running. And if you think they treat humans badly at those ranches, you should hear what they do to those they consider blood-traitors!"

Rhyann blinked. "You're a half-elf?" he asked.

The woodsman stared at him again. "You didn't notice?" Then he smacked his forehead, "Of course. It's too dark to see my ears, and humans can't sense mana. Which means I've just gone and screwed things up for myself. That'll teach me to talk to humans when I'm half-asleep, I suppose."

Just then, the sound of shouting came from the edge of the clearing. "They're here!" Rhyann whispered frantically, "Please, don't turn me in…"

"Do you realize what it will mean, if I do this?" the woodcutter whispered furiously, "I'll have to leave this place before they come back to take me away!"

Rhyann looked around at what he could see of the tiny hut. "How attached to this place are you, anyway?"

"Not to the house," the woodsman admitted, "but the people of the town more or less trust me. That took years of working hard and enduring their abuse, and I don't want to throw it away and have to go through the process again."

Rhyann nodded thoughtfully, as a pounding came on the door. "It's your choice to make," he whispered, "I'll go quietly, you can pretend you captured me to turn me in to them."

The man looked at him for a moment longer, then went to the door. Opening it just enough to poke his head out, he asked sleepily, "What is it?"

"A prisoner escaped from the ranch earlier tonight," an officious voice said, "and we tracked him in this direction. Have you seen anyone?"

"I've been asleep since sunset, until your ruckus woke me up," the woodsman replied grouchily, "I haven't seen anyone."

"If you're sure," the voice said skeptically, "We'll be back this way in the morning, in case you happen to see or remember anything else…unusual." The underlying threat in his voice was clear.

"Of course," the woodsman replied with slightly strained politeness, "Goodnight." He closed the door firmly and turned toward the stunned Rhyann as the sounds of clinking armor faded away. "I hate those bastards," he explained quietly, "They give half-elves a bad name, and anyone who doesn't join is forced to be solicitous toward them or else be declared a traitor."

"Then…you don't live out here because you hate humans?" Rhyann asked.

The woodsman snorted a bit derisively, "I don't have a problem with humans, they have a problem with me. It's really just sad; they believe so many lies about half-elves, it's almost not even their fault. I wish someone could show them differently, but with the Desians around, that doesn't seem likely."

Rhyann regarded him thoughtfully. "I imagine you don't see many other half-elves who share your viewpoint," he mused.

The other man shook his head, "I don't think there are any."

"If there were, would you want to join them?" Rhyann asked.

"Of course," the woodsman replied without hesitation, "not that it matters."

"I wasn't just a prisoner at that ranch, you know," Rhyann told him suddenly, "I was spying for a group of rebels who are fighting against the Desians. I had to run because they caught me."

"There are humans fighting against the Desians?" the woodcutter asked, surprised.

"Well, some of us," Rhyann nodded, "but most are actually half-elves."

The other man's expression grew astonished, then thoughtful. "I take it that you're offering to let me join, then," he murmured, "Well, there's certainly nothing left for me here now. The Desians will be back to 'test my loyalty' tomorrow, and I'd prefer not to be here for that, so…" he nodded once, firmly, "I accept."

Rhyann grinned, "Great! The Renegades will be glad to have you. Er, I'm Rhyann, by the way. Rhyann Townsend. What's your name?"

The woodsman smiled at him, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Botta."

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All right, now tell me in a review, who was expecting that? Sha-chan, you don't count, since I told you already. Please review anyway, though? And I hope everyone enjoyed the twist! I've been looking forward to writing this scene out since I worked out Botta's history, it was the one portion of his past that I really wanted to have concretely defined.


	10. Tyrants and Traitors

Next chapter! This is several months after 'Rosa', so Botta's pretty much settled in, but his friendship with Yuan is still developing, and this is a bit of a turning point. Slight Yuan/Botta hinting in this one...believe it or not, I'm working my way up to a full-blown pairing.

I don't own them.

Yay, the line-bar things are working again!

* * *

"Lord Yuan," Botta said, entering the office trailed by a pair of grunts, "The team has returned from the village."

"And?" Yuan demanded impatiently, "Did they catch him?"

Botta swallowed a bit nervously, "No, sir. The villagers…appear to be protecting him. He has convinced them that he is hiding from Desians, and they certainly won't believe that he had betrayed us from within our ranks, since Desians obviously don't let humans join…"

Yuan glared at him, then turned to the grunts. "You two are dismissed," he told them coolly, "You will receive further orders later." They nodded and left hastily. Yuan then looked back at Botta, fury burning in his eyes. "We can't let that damned traitor get back to the Pope," he growled, "We have to do whatever it takes to get him back. …I want you to take a group of sufficient size, and assault the village, burn it to the ground if you have to, whatever you do, _don't let him get away_!"

Botta was shocked. Did Yuan…just order him to burn a village? He stared at his leader for a long moment, confusion and reluctance warring in his gaze, before uttering the bravest word he'd ever said. "No."

Yuan's eyes widened with rage, and Botta flinched a bit. "_What?_" the leader hissed, "What did you say?"

But Botta was determined now. "I won't attack an innocent village, Yuan," he replied, "Nothing is worth that, and if you were thinking clearly, you'd know that."

Electricity was beginning to crackle around Yuan's body, and Botta instinctively gathered his earth-based mana about him in case he needed to put up a shield quickly. "This is insubordination," Yuan told him darkly, "I could have you tried as a traitor."

Botta met his gaze evenly. "Better to be a traitor than to serve a fallen master. Isn't that what you taught us?" He shook his head, "Yuan…think about what you're doing! Tell me, what would Yggdrasill do in this situation…and how are your actions different?"

Yuan's hair began to lift, and Botta could hear sparks crackling as his leader's rage grew…but then, something in his eyes changed, and suddenly he seemed to deflate. "I…but…" he said, looking down, his gaze now troubled, "…Damn…I was…close to the edge, wasn't I?"

Botta breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes," he admitted, "I'm glad I could convince you."

Yuan looked at him. The troubled expression he wore mingled with almost desperate gratitude, making him look a little lost. "Thank you, Botta," he murmured, "I can't express…how grateful I am for your courage."

With a gentle smile, Botta replied, "It seemed the right thing to do…and you warned me, once, that a leader who is never opposed can too easily become a tyrant. I knew that if I let you go through with this, you'd end up looking back on it with regret. And I'd never be able to forgive myself…either for the action itself, or for letting you down that way."

Yuan smiled ruefully. "You're braver than I ever was, then, in that situation," he replied sadly, "I wish you'd been around four thousand years ago…maybe things wouldn't be so bad today."

Botta shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. "So now that you're thinking more clearly," he said, changing the subject, "What should we do about the spy?"

Yuan frowned thoughtfully. "Set up a constant watch around the village," he proclaimed eventually, "Watch who comes and goes. If he doesn't leave, and can't get word out, we should be safe; and if he tries to leave, we can grab him." He smirked a little, "Does that meet with your esteemed approval?"

Botta nodded, with a smile. "I think so," he replied, "I'll get on it right away; we shouldn't lose any more time."

"You're dismissed, then," Yuan said with a nod, "…Come back when you're done?" At Botta's questioning look, Yuan added, seeming a bit embarrassed, "I'd…just like to talk to you a bit, if you have the time."

"Certainly," Botta replied, nodding firmly, "I'll return when I've finished making the arrangements, then."

Yuan smiled warmly at him. "I look forward to it."

* * *

Review, please! 


	11. Rain

Just a little quickie this time, a random conversation that Yuan and Botta had in my head while I was walking through the rain, so I wrote it down and called it a cure for writer's block. I don't own Yuan and Botta or the setting, but Charles and Hiro, and Charles' equipment, are mine.

Also, I forgot to mention, last chapter was my tenth, which means that as of now, I am just over a tenth of the way done with this challenge! I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed, here and on livejournal. You guys rock.

* * *

Yuan stormed into his office, brushing damp hair from his eyes and wringing water out of his cloak. 

Botta watched him enter with an amused half-smile. "Forget your umbrella?" he asked lightly.

Yuan gave him a reproachful glare. "We're in the desert," he replied caustically, "I wasn't expecting rain."

"Charles has been predicting this for about a week now, with his sensing equipment," Botta pointed out.

"Botta, do you remember Charles and his sensing equipment last year about this time?" Yuan asked dryly, "As I recall, it was predicting blizzards. We didn't even get a sandstorm."

Botta nodded with a faint smirk. "You have a point," he admitted, "although rain is a far more plausible outcome. And he has had a full year to refine it, after all, and this is Charles we're talking about." But there was a sparkle in his eye that told Yuan he was still holding something back.

"How long does Charles say the rain will continue?" Yuan asked suspiciously.

"About a month," Botta replied, suppressed laughter clear in his tone.

Yuan laughed, and was about to reply, when a voice came over the intercom system. "To everyone who had bets on Charles' equipment's predictions," Hiroshi's voice said, "The rain stopped just a couple minutes ago. Pay up."

Yuan gaped at the speakers. Sitting down at his desk, he looked positively glum. "It started as soon as I left," he muttered, "and it ended almost as soon as I came in." He buried his face in his folded arms and finished in a muffled tone, "Looks like Undine still hates me."

"Don't you think you might be exaggerating just a little?" Botta asked, one eyebrow raised.

Yuan shook his head. "No, no, she really does," he replied, voice still muffled by his arms, "See, it's her revenge for the practical jokes I used to play on her, way back when." He paused, "To be fair, it was the Sylph's idea, and Gnome and Mithos helped, but I had a large part in it, and she hasn't forgiven me yet."

Botta wasn't sure whether to gape in astonishment or just laugh at how forlorn Yuan looked sitting there. He settled on a bemused chuckle, reflecting as he did so that while his time spent around Yuan could be called many things, 'boring' had never been on the list.

"Well, I suppose you'd better stay inside until it blows over, then," he pointed out to his leader, deadpanning, "Wouldn't want to damage Triet's ecology by going outside and making it rain too much."

Yuan lifted his head and stuck his tongue out; they both knew how he hated to be cooped up. After a moment, though, he began to chuckle at the absurdity of it all, and soon both were laughing.

* * *

Yay for random fluffiness! Please review? 


	12. Celsiyule

Welcome back! Here's the obligatory Christmastime installment! Because everyone loves seasonal fluff. Remember, folks, whatever you celebrate, have a happy holiday! And see if you can get me ownership of these fellows as a Christmas present, because right now, I don't own Yuan, Botta, or the setting.

Celsiyule does not mean Christmas. Celsiyule is an ancient wintertime celebration dedicated to the Summon Spirit of Ice, and long predates the Church. Spiritua's Day, the celebration which has now replaced Celsiyule throughout most of the two worlds by virtue of the Church's tyranny toward anyone who doesn't celebrate it, is equivalent to Christmas.

This fic is dedicated to Meowzy-chan, because Botta's sweet tooth is entirely her fault.

* * *

All the enlisted soldiers with any cooking skills had been rounded up and brought to the kitchen. "All right, folks, listen up!" Rebecca proclaimed, "We are about to embark, once again, on the most challenging mission this kitchen ever experiences." She paused for dramatic effect, "We need to cook enough Celsiyule dinner for the entire base!"

The ones who had been here last year nodded resignedly; the newer soldiers began to glance about nervously. Rebecca's booming voice didn't give them a chance to start discussing it, though.

"All the food and necessary supplies have already been brought in!" she continued, "So let's get to it!" She began sorting out the necessary groups and dividing them into different portions of the kitchen. Soon, the different tasks were proceeding apace, and Rebecca went around to look over shoulders and generally oversee the preparation.

"You'll have to mash those potatoes harder than that, Private," she told one, moving to demonstrate, "See, you hold the masher like this, it's easier to use your full strength that way." She moved on, "Potter, what are you doing with that turkey and stuffing?" She sighed, "Really. Let me see that, before you give us all salmonella." She showed him the proper way to stuff a turkey, then wandered along the line. "No, no, no, Major!" she cried, dashing over to help another one, "You did this same thing last year! Stir the cranberries more often, or else you'll end up with a mess of burned gelatin!"

It wasn't until preparations were nearly complete that she noticed something very wrong in the dessert section. Eyes flashing, she stormed over to deal with the troublemaker there herself.

"Lord Botta," she stated icily, eyes flashing, "And just what do you think you're doing?"

Botta had, in fact, been trying to steal some cookie dough, and his cheeks flared faintly pink at being caught. "Hello, Rebecca," he said evenly, "Is this normally how you address your superior officers?"

"Command of this kitchen is mine and mine alone until the meal is finished," Rebecca told him in the same tone as before, "By order of Lord Yuan. And you and your damned sweet tooth," she paused to smack his hand away from the pile of freshly-baked cookies, "have previously been instructed to stay away from the kitchen until both dinner and dessert are eaten."

Botta shuffled his feet, fully aware of all the amused and/or curious gazes directed his way. "Yes, ma'am," he said finally, a touch of petulance in his attitude. He made as if to leave…then suddenly whipped around, grabbed a single cookie, and ran.

Unfortunately for him, Rebecca was faster. She grabbed the nearest non-sharp object she could find – which turned out to be an egg this year – and threw it at him. Botta tried to duck, but the rest of the kitchen got just a glimpse of him fleeing the scene with bits of egg scattered throughout his hair.

Rebecca stared after where he'd gone for a moment, then began to chuckle. "All right, nothing more to see here," she said, "Everyone back to work!"

-

A few minutes later, right on cue, there was a knock on Yuan's door. He debated whether it would be more efficient to get the medkit now, or wait until his Second was actually in the room. Deciding that there was always the possibility that Rebecca had missed or not actually injured Botta this year, he went and opened the door…and watched, bemused, as Botta made his way into the room, still holding his ill-gotten cookie.

"You're getting egg on my carpet," he noted, barely suppressing a laugh. Botta just nodded. "You do this every year," Yuan continued, "It's not like she isn't expecting it, you know. You're lucky she's learned to keep smaller, lighter objects on hand."

"Of course I do it every year," Botta replied evenly, "It's a tradition. Besides," he took a bite of the cookie, "they taste better stolen."

That was the last straw for Yuan's humor; his laughter could be heard echoing down the halls all the way to the kitchen.

* * *

Reviews may produce mistletoe fics. We'll have to see. 


	13. Mistletoe

Hello, everyone! Here's your next installment! The theme is Tradition. I don't own Yuan or Botta. If anyone wants to borrow my Renegades, just ask.

* * *

Every year, the Renegades' senior staff threw themselves a Celsiyule party, and this one was no exception. But this year, in the planning, something had gone a bit awry.

"You really think this'll work?" Charles asked Hiroshi as they finished the setup.

"Well, I'm certain we can get them to stand underneath it," Hiro replied, "What they do once they realize where they are…well, that's another matter entirely. I know better than to try and predict Lord Yuan."

"Fair enough," Charles agreed, "…You realize that, if they don't find this amusing, the consequences could be…unpleasant?"

"Oh, stop being such a worrywart, Chuck!" Rebecca cried, "It'll be fine. Lord Botta wouldn't let Lord Yuan do anything too awful to us." She smirked, "And somehow, I think it'll turn out all right."

"Don't call me 'Chuck'," Charles muttered futilely, "I hate that nickname."

"Okay, so here's the plan one more time," Lyon broke in, "Charles, you meet up with Lord Yuan outside, and talk to him about something, and as you talk, walk him over to where we want him. Once you leave, he'll stay put, he always just stands and watches anyway. 'Becca, once Charles is gone, you accost Lord Yuan and give him a plate of cookies. He'll try to refuse, but you're good at not taking 'no' for an answer. Lord Botta has said he'll be coming in a little late, so this should all be in place before he arrives. We all know that he usually heads over to the refreshment table before going to talk to anyone; the plate of cookies should bring him to where we want him. Any questions?"

"Do we have plans for surviving once Lord Yuan realizes what happened?" Charles asked dryly.

Everyone ignored him.

-

Yuan made his way down the hall to the party room. It was hardly his favorite event, but he knew that the staff liked having him there, and there were worse ways to spend an evening.

As he drew near, Charles came up to him. "Ah, Lord Yuan!" he said, "I wanted to discuss some issues with those weapon systems you wanted to try putting on the Rheiards."

"What are they?" Yuan asked, vaguely amused by Charles' inability to stop working on an interesting problem.

"Well, first of all, the weapons themselves," Charles said, then explained as they continued walking, "The materials they use normally are too heavy. We need something lighter but still strong enough to withstand the pressures placed on it. Otherwise, the Rheiards won't be able to fly."

"I'll see what I can find for you, then," Yuan nodded, "What else?"

"Besides the weapons themselves, there's the matter of power source," Charles continued, "The Rheiards' engines don't produce enough power to work the weapons and still fly, and conventional power sources are heavy. It's going to take some interesting engineering work to figure that out. And even if we get them flying, we need to test if they'll work properly at altitude."

"Will it be worth the effort, do you think?" Yuan asked, "Or should we give up on this idea?"

"It's hard to say for certain just yet," Charles replied, "I'd like a chance to try, at the very least."

"I'll make sure you're properly supplied, then," Yuan told him.

Charles nodded, "Thank you, sir. We'll do our best to make it work." With that, he gave a casual salute and wandered off to go mingle with the other partygoers. Yuan watched him go for a moment, then looked around the room, watching as the party moved into full swing.

"Lord Yuan!" Rebecca cried enthusiastically, dashing toward him with a grin. She proffered a plate of cookies. "I've got a new recipe!" she exclaimed, "Will you try some?"

"…Why?" Yuan asked perplexedly, "I've said before that my sense of taste is almost nonexistent."

"Oh, just have a few," Rebecca insisted, "Trust me, they're worth it." She shoved the plate into his hands and began to move away.

Yuan accepted the plate and watched her go with an air of resignation, deciding that it was a battle not worth fighting. He stood there for a few minutes longer, holding the cookies a bit awkwardly as he watched the people around him chatting cheerily. He hoped Botta would arrive soon, so that he'd have someone to talk to; his Second was finishing up a few more reports on the spies they'd infiltrated into the Church lately. This was the best time of year to do that, after all, with the people in a religious frenzy and the Church busy setting up celebrations. Yuan had often said that Botta should have someone else do that kind of work, but Botta insisted on doing it personally. Which was admirable, really, but sometimes inconvenient.

Ah, but there Botta was now. Yuan watched in amusement as Botta entered the room, his eyes traveling first to the dessert table, then checking where Yuan was. With a smirk, Yuan waved the plate of cookies at him, and Botta grinned lopsidedly as he made his way over.

"How thoughtful of you," he remarked as he came to stand beside his friend.

"Then I wish I could take credit," Yuan responded, "Rebecca foisted them off on me; apparently they're her new recipe."

Botta took one. "That makes sense, then," he agreed, "She can be rather overenthusiastic." He took a bite, "They're good."

"I'll be sure to let her know you said so," Yuan replied dryly, "Tell me, do the senior staff seem to you to be taking an inordinate amount of interest in our conversation?"

Botta glanced at the gathering crowd, who were doing a very poor job of feigning disinterest. "Yes, I think you're right," he agreed bemusedly.

"Okay, you lot, what's going on?" Yuan asked them in mock annoyance.

Several of them were stifling giggles as Rebecca pointed to the ceiling above their heads. They looked up, and both blushed bright red as they saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging there.

Yuan began to splutter. "I-I didn't see it!" he cried, "I wouldn't-"

"You have to kiss," Rebecca giggled.

"It's tradition!" Joe added cheerfully.

"We're Renegades!" Yuan cried, a bit petulantly, "Screw tradition!" He glared around at the grinning faces of his staff, "You planned this out, didn't you? As soon as I find out who was in on it…Rebecca and Charles for certain, I know that. Charles, I thought better of you! And-" he was cut off by a tap on the shoulder.

"Yuan?" Botta said, his tone surprisingly calm.

"What?" Yuan asked, turning to face him.

Before Yuan had the chance to respond further, Botta leaned in and kissed him firmly. Yuan froze in surprise briefly, then responded willingly. The kiss lasted only a moment, and they pulled away.

"…Botta?" Yuan asked, his eyes wide and questioning, just a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

Botta shrugged. "Tradition," he said simply, but the glint in his eyes said more.

There was a slight commotion from the spectators, and both of them seemed to remember that they weren't alone. Yuan quickly regained his composure, and glared at them again. "All right," he said irritably, "Show's over. Nothing more to see here, go away." He stalked off to brood in a less-populated corner of the room.

Botta let him go with a faint smile, knowing that after such a public display, Yuan would need his space. It didn't matter right now; he had his answer.

* * *

I promised mistletoe, and so mistletoe has been provided. I spent a lot of time figuring out if I should include a kiss at the party, or later, or what. My Yuan muse was absolutely refusing to kiss anyone in public, no matter what, but I knew that if I let him get away, he'd just hide from it rather than going back later to give the owed kiss, like the other option I'd thought of. I like my third option as shown in this fic.

Please review!


	14. Heroes

Warning! Warning! Shounen-ai ahead!

For those who are still here, hi and welcome back! This is a bit of introspection and fluff between Yuan and Botta.

Kudos and dedication of this chapter go to AnnaAurion123, without whom this would not have been possible. Thanks for the help, sweetie!

I own nothing except Hiroshi.

* * *

Botta strode through the corridors, folders in hand. Spotting Hiroshi, he stopped the junior officer. "Have you seen Lord Yuan?" he asked, "I have some reports for him."

"They'll have to wait," Hiroshi told him, "He's in his office, with the door locked, and won't let anyone in."

"He…what?" This was rather unusual behavior for the stoic and responsible leader.

"Yeah, they say he does that, every once in a while, just locks himself in his office for a few days and doesn't talk to anyone." Hiroshi shrugged, "Give him a few days, and he'll be out and about pretending that nothing happened. There's all kinds of rumors about why he does it, but no one knows for sure."

"I see," Botta replied, "Thanks for telling me." With that, he strode off toward Yuan's office.

When he reached it, he knocked firmly on the door. "Lord Yuan?" he called, "Yuan, I know you're in there."

After a long moment, a muffled voice came through the door. "Hasn't anyone told you? I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"I'm not going away," Botta said firmly.

"You will. Everyone does."

Botta sighed in mild aggravation. When Yuan was being stubborn, the only thing to do was to be stubborn right back at him, preferably in a way that couldn't be ignored. He began to hum a repetitive children's song, deliberately off-key.

This lasted for longer than Botta would have thought Yuan would endure; but just when he was starting to think about changing tactics or giving up, he heard the distinct sound of the door unlocking.

"Fine," Yuan said, opening the door, "Come in. Just stop that humming."

Botta entered quickly before Yuan could change his mind, but he couldn't help sizing up Yuan's appearance as he moved into the office. Yuan was looking startlingly haggard and exhausted; suddenly it was easy to believe in the millennia he'd lived through.

"Yuan, what's wrong?" he asked quietly, "You look like you haven't slept in weeks." When Yuan raised an eyebrow at this, he corrected himself, "Or rather, you look like someone else would if they hadn't slept in weeks."

"It's nothing," Yuan replied, "I just…need a bit of a break sometimes, is all."

"When was the last time you had a vacation?" Botta asked, "Leader or not, you should be able to go on leave once in a while. Or at least tell the rest of us what you're doing, rather than leaving us to wonder."

Yuan shook his head. "I wish it were that simple," he muttered.

Now it was Botta's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And why wouldn't it be?" he queried, rather confused.

Yuan sighed, half-collapsing into a chair. "Because people take vacations," he replied, "But I can't afford to be a person. You understand? They need me to be more than that." He fixed Botta with an intense gaze. "You remember before you were promoted…what would you have thought then if you had heard that I was taking a vacation?"

Botta hesitated, then nodded his understanding. "The concept would have been…almost unthinkable," he admitted slowly.

"Exactly. I'm more of a legend, a symbol, than a person, to them," Yuan replied with a decisive nod, "And if they saw me as anything else, their faith in the Renegades would waver."

Botta's expression grew troubled, mostly because he knew Yuan was right. "But why?" he murmured, "Why wouldn't they be able to have as much faith in a person as in a symbol?"

"Because of the position I'm trying to fill," Yuan responded wearily, "Everyone, all their lives, has been raised on legends of the Hero Mithos, and stories of the Goddess Martel. Compared to figures like that, a fallible leader won't stand a chance." He shook his head, "What it amounts to is, most people never outgrow their need for some sort of parental figure to guide them, to take care of the things they can't handle on their own, to admire as the ultimate unattainable ideal. That's why the Hero and the Goddess have such great appeal…and that's why I have to be more than a person in order to fight those concepts."

As Botta considered this, he became aware that Yuan was watching him carefully for his reaction. He regarded the figure in the chair, suddenly aware as he had never quite been before that Yuan was somewhat shorter than average, and rather slender as well. Sitting there looking so drained and wary made him seem terribly frail, and suddenly Botta was moving to enclose him in a protective embrace.

Yuan stiffened a bit in surprise, and looked up at Botta, who blushed faintly as he realized what he'd done, but wouldn't let go. "But now you've told me," he murmured, "and in case you're wondering, I don't think any less of you. Quite the contrary, in fact." Yuan relaxed at these words, even as Botta shook his head in amazement, "I can't imagine the strength it must take, to maintain that image."

"You must have some idea… The soldiers look up to you in almost the same way, I've noticed. They see you as their commander, and link to their leader. Almost like the Chosen… in a way," Yuan mused. "Perhaps that's why I chose you as my second. Because I knew that you could and would be the link between the soldiers and I."

Botta considered this. "I suppose, in a way, you're right…" he mused, "I can't be…quite as close to the others as I once was, because of the things I know now." He shook his head, "Still, it's not the same as trying to pretend I'm more than a person…"

Yuan shrugged, leaning into Botta's arms a little bit. "There's no other way for us to succeed," he murmured.

"Then let me help," Botta replied in the same tone, holding him a bit closer, "Instead of disappearing, let me protect you, when you need it." There was just a hint of nervousness in his tone, and in his amber gaze as he waited for Yuan's reply.

Yuan stared up at him for a moment, still looking vulnerable and fragile; then, he smiled warmly. Without another word, he leaned up and pressed his lips to Botta's. Botta kissed him back firmly, one hand moving absently to stroke Yuan's hair. Finally, both pulled away for air. Yuan gazed at him warmly for another moment, then smirked. "Somehow," he said, "I think you're going to end up trying to protect me even when I don't need it." He sighed a bit and rested his head on Botta's shoulder, "So just don't get all annoying about it, okay?"

Botta smiled at him. "I promise," he murmured contentedly.

* * *

Review, please! 


	15. Policy

For my consistent and enthusiastic reviewer Trickssi. Just a little something my brain came up with while getting a snack one night. Theme is Privacy. I own nothing. It's 3 in the morning and I should so be in bed.

* * *

Botta wandered sleepily down the hall toward the kitchen; he'd woken up hungry in the middle of the night and decided to get himself a snack. As he approached the room, however, he found he could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen. The voices were making sounds not ordinarily found outside of bedrooms. With a shake of his head, he pushed the door open to confront the couple.

When he saw them there, he raised an eyebrow. It seemed two of the young recruits had been making these noises; he thought he remembered their names as Remy Wullen and Sirin Kuros. Remy was sitting on the counter, his chest bare and a shirt sitting beside him, looking at Botta with wide eyes that never seemed to lose their tired look. Sirin, on the other hand, was nearly glaring at the intruder; his wild black hair, usually pulled into a regulation ponytail, hung loose. Remy's nervousness was offset by Sirin's clear willingness to defend his mate. They waited mistrustfully for their superior officer's reaction.

"That's rather disgusting, you know," Botta told them conversationally as he entered the room more fully, his expression carefully neutral.

Sirin's scowl turned into a snarl. "So," he growled, "I guess we know the limits of the acceptance policy around here, don't we?"

Botta looked at him steadily. "If you're looking for somewhere new and adventurous," he said, "there's a mostly-empty broom closet down the way, or the Rheiard hangar is usually empty this time of night. If you're feeling particularly experimental, I believe we aren't keeping anyone in cellblock B at the moment. But these counters are for food preparation." He shrugged at their twin expressions of disbelief, turning away to face the refrigerator, "In other words: We eat in here. Take that somewhere else, please."

Remy's eyes were full of guarded hope, while Sirin's snarl had faded to an expression reminiscent of a lost puppy. "You're…not going to try to keep us apart?" he asked confusedly.

"What you do on your time off is no one's business but your own. I trust you will not allow this relationship to affect your performance while on duty?" He turned back to look at them sidelong, and both shook their heads quickly. "Then there's no reason to do so, no." He smiled a little, "So, do we understand the bounds of the Renegades' acceptance policy, Mister Kuros?"

"Y-yes, sir," Sirin stammered, then grinned, "Thank you, sir." Without another word, he helped his lover off of the counter, and the two of them fled for some other location.

Botta shook his head and chuckled a bit once they'd gone, then turned back to deciding what he should have to eat. After a moment, he reluctantly chose the chicken soup over his first choice of tuna; Yuan hated the smell of fish, and he knew that if he brought any back to the room they shared, he'd have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.


End file.
